


You Idiot, I Love You

by FeelsAreFatal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bank Robbers, Criminal Castiel, Criminal Dean Winchester, Criminal Sam Winchester, Criminal!Dean, Criminal!Sam, Destiel - Freeform, Gay Sex, Homosexuality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 16:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelsAreFatal/pseuds/FeelsAreFatal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Another bank has been hit by the renowned Winchester gang.  Over six hundred thousand dollars worth of cash and safe deposit boxes were stolen.  Authorities say the bank was hit by several members, of which only three men were recognized.  Detective Victor Henrickson has identified the men as the gang leader, Dean Winchester, younger brother, Sam Winchester and the leader's apparent significant other, Castiel Milton."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Idiot, I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> What am I doing with my life, jesus christ.

_"Another bank has been hit by the renowned Winchester gang. Over six hundred thousand dollars worth of cash and safe deposit boxes were stolen. Authorities say the bank was hit by several members, of which only three men were recognized. Detective Victor Henrickson has identified the men as the gang leader, Dean Winchester, younger brother, Sam Winchester and the leader's apparent significant other, Castiel Milton. As always, the gang left behind a spray-painted insignia of the group's symbol, a pentagram surrounded by a ring of fire. Of the forty bank occupants, which includes tellers, patrons and other staff, five survived. Police and FBI are currently questioning witnesses and taking statements. Detective Henrickson states that the US government will stop at nothing to put these criminals behind bars, and that he's been chasing the gang for three years. He believes that he has finally found a pattern to their madness. Authorities advise that all citizens stay in their homes tonight and to keep a lookout for any suspicious activity. If you identify any of the members of the Winchester gang, do exactly as they say and do not give them any reason to harm you. These men are armed and dangerous. A reward of five thousand dollars is being offered for any valuable information regarding the whereabouts of the fugitives. If you have any information, call the toll-free number below,"_

The television screen flicks black as the news report moves on to another story and Castiel shifts his gaze from the TV to Dean, who is sitting quietly at the table. His chair is tipped back on two legs and the oldest Winchester has both feet on the war-room table. The man knocks back the last sip of whiskey from his glass and slams it onto the table with a grin. 

"We won another one, Cas," he celebrates, leaning forward suddenly and planting both feet on the floor, chair landing back on four legs. "You really are my guardian angel, aren't you?" His grin twitches at the corner and his eyes sparkle like emeralds; Dean's always happy after a successful run, which means good things for Castiel. The dark haired man chuckles obligingly and shrugs, moving from the place where he was leaning against the wall.

"I like to think I am," he saunters towards Dean, and the man turns in his chair to face him. He settles himself down on Dean's lap and brushes his fingertips across the taller man's cheekbones, tracing the tawny freckles that are scattered there. "Six hundred grand, Dean. What the hell are we going to do with it?" 

"We have to pay the rest of the guys first, before we do anything, and by then it'll be significantly less," Dean presses a soft kiss to the just of Castiel's jaw, and another on his temple. The other man rolls his eyes, because they obviously have to distribute it, but if his estimate is correct then they'll each end up with seventy five thousand.

"Alright, then what are you going to do with seventy five thousand?" He concedes and Cas feels Dean's smile against his mouth when they kiss. It's chaste, but Dean draws it out, breaks off and pecks him on the mouth again before he answers.

"That's a surprise, angel. What are you gonna do with seventy five thousand dollars?" Dean teases, because he knows Castiel will probably do something smart with it, like invest it under a fake name and make more money off the stock market. Never mind that they're already millionaires. 

"Actually there's a classic Mustang in Cali that I've had my eye on. Nineteen seventy six fastback Mustang, black as night, fully restored. Guy's asking fifty grand, says it's mint," Dean looks skeptical, he could probably find a used one and they could restore it together. Although he'd found a 1959 Aston Martin DB4 GT that would probably be more fun to work on. He's brought back to reality when Cas nibbles playfully at his ear, "There's a bench seat in the back we could fool around in," he singsongs and Dean's about to say yes but then Cas suggests they could make a roadtrip out of going to get it and Dean kisses him thoroughly. It's been a long time since he and Cas road-tripped together, too long if you ask Dean.

"I'll take that as a 'hell yeah'," Cas muses, cheeks flushed and hair in more of a disarray than usual. 

"Ugh, you guys are gross," both men look up at the arrival of Sam and Charlie, who are both making fake gagging noises and sticking their fingers in their mouths to show their displeasure. Castiel snorts and leans into his boyfriend, if a US-wide wanted criminal could be considered a boyfriend, smiling contentedly while Dean rubs his back. 

"What do you two cock-blockers want, huh?" Dean attempts irritation, but his grin ruins the effect. 

"Well, if you guys don't want your money then I guess I'll take it," Sam jibes, but slides two equal stacks of bills across the table; one for Dean and one for Castiel. "Seventy five thousand buckaroos, spend it wisely,"

"We're having a Star Wars marathon if you two wanna join," Charlie offers, gesturing to a massive bowl of popcorn that Dean didn't even notice she was carrying. Castiel squirms in his lap, and Dean grasps his hips and nips at the smaller man's throat.

"Sorry Charlie, I have some, ah, business to attend to in my room,"

"Gotcha. I'll turn up the TV volume then. Um, have fun," she scrambles out of the room, leaving it empty save for Dean and Cas.   
Dean turns his gaze to the gorgeous man in his lap, who looks positively sinful with his hair all mussed and his lips red from kissing. His cheeks are flushed and he's sporting quite the boner. Cas's eyes are dark, almost black with lust and he keeps chewing on his lower lip and looking up at Dean through a fan of ebony lashes. 

"Look at you, Cas," he breathes, because Castiel is so fucking sexy it hurts. He thinks back to earlier today, when he and Sam were loading up the bags and two security guards showed up out of fucking nowhere and pulled a pistol each out of their thigh holsters. The whole mission would have gone to shit had Cas not showed up and fucking knocked them to the ground. He can remember the way the man had appeared out of thin air and de-armed both men in seconds, kicked their feet out from under them and smashed their faces into the granite floor. His cock jumps at the memory of Castiel in all his righteous fury and he makes the easy decision to take Cas back to his room and fuck him into the mattress. 

He presses his lips to Cas's and the other man opens up easily underneath the demanding swipes of his tongue and he slips inside, claims Castiel's mouth and wraps his arms around his waist. Dean stands up swiftly and Cas wraps his legs around the taller man's waist, burying his fingers in the short, sandy spikes of Dean's hair. They tumble down the hallway to Dean's room in a rush, a trail of shirts left behind them. 

As soon as the door is shut, Dean slams Castiel against it, pinning his wrists above his head with one hand and cupping the perfect swell of Cas's ass with the other. He bites at plush lips and the smooth skin of his neck, ripping fucking beautiful little moans from Cas's throat. "God, Cas,"

"Please. Ah! Dean," he begs and he arches off the door to meet the next lave of Dean's tongue against his nipples.

"What, Cas?" Dean demands, pulling back to stare him in the eye, "What do you want?"

"You. Need you. Need you to-ah-fuck me," his eyes screw shut and his mouth falls open as Dean bucks his hips up to grind their erections together. 

"Je-sus Cas," Dean gasps and whirls around and takes a step towards the bed before tossing Cas onto it. They get their pants and underwear off in record time, and Cas already has the lube out before Dean even gets on the mattress. "Someone's eager,"

"Shut up, Dean. You're such a fucking tease," he shoves the bottle at Dean and spreads his legs. He's moaning by the time Dean's got two fingers inside him, scissoring and rubbing at his prostate. "Another, Dean. Hurry up, or I'll come before we're even near done," Dean obliges, because the dark-haired man means business, and if he doesn't follow orders then Castiel will damn well take matters into his own hands. 

"Now, Dean," Cas cries and Dean slicks himself up, gives his dick a few pumps before lining up and pushing in, clenching his teeth to keep from screaming because god damn Cas is tight. "Move, damnit!" Castiel demands and Dean slaps his ass, hard enough to leave a white outline of his hand.

"Watch your mouth, bitch," Dean growls and pulls out, almost to the tip, before snapping his hips and driving in, hard. Cas's hands fly to grapple Dean's shoulders, nails biting into his skin as Dean sets a punishing pace. He pauses for a moment to re-position the angle of Cas's hips before resuming the fast-paced pounding, nailing Castiel's prostate every time.

Castiel wails and fucks himself onto Dean's cock, matching the other man's rhythm, stroke for stroke. Dean bends to kiss him and slows his pace, before pulling out, flipping Castiel over abruptly and sinking back in. Cas huffs in surprise as Dean rolls his hips slowly, and bites down on the other man's shoulder so keep from moaning too loud. "Hands on the headboard," Dean orders, waiting until Castiel has braced himself before pistoning his hips faster than before. He drills his lover into the mattress, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, pressing filthy kisses to the corner of Cas's mouth. 

He can feel the pressure building low in his abdomen and Cas is tightening like a guitar string. He's vaguely aware that the headboard is pounding the wall in time with the filthy sounds of skin slapping skin. 

"So close, oh Dean, I'm s-so- oh fuck!" Cas comes suddenly, back arching off the bed, head thrown back and mouth open in ecstasy. The sight and the feeling of Castiel clenching around him sends Dean over the edge right after his partner and he climaxes with a shout. 

They collapse back onto the mattress in a sticky, satiated heap and tangle around each other. Cas presses a soft kiss to Dean's lips and hums happily. "That was nice," and his eyelids are drooping, his smile is sleepy.

"I'll say," Dean chuffs and nuzzles Castiel's neck adoringly, pulling him more tightly against himself. "You were so good today, Cas. Save the mission and our asses, Sammy should be thankful he didn't get arrested,"

"It's all part of the job, chief," Castiel yawns, and snuggles into Dean's chest, feeling warm and safe. 

"You tired, angel?" Dean muses, chest rumbling with laughter,

"Mmhm, g'night,"

"Love you, angel."

"Love you too."

[.][.][.]

Dean doesn't think he's ever been happier; Cas is behind the wheel of his new Mustang, Ray Bans perched on the bridge of his nose and hair ruffling in the wind blowing in through the open window. He's humming along to Boston's More Than A Feeling and smoking a cigarette, where he got it Dean has no idea, one hand on the wheel and the other entwined with Dean's. 

They officially retired from robbing banks six months before they finally had time to drive out and get Cas's car, the old guy who'd posted it for sale had held it for them while they 'came up with the money'. Truth is that they'd had to lay low for about a year so they could step outside the bunker without drawing attention to themselves. The gang had had one last hurrah a few months prior to the official retirement and bagged a mil.

Everyone went their separate ways once it was all said and done, Jo and Ash opened up a bar in Kansas, Charlie's working for Google, Garth started working at an animal shelter- go figure - and Benny became a fisherman. Sam moved to California and started taking online courses at Stanford.   
Dean and Castiel went on that road trip. Sam's borrowing the Impala for the time being while Dean and Cas criss-cross the country. 

"Hey Cas? Pull off at the next exit,"

"What's in Marietta?" Cas inquires as he slides into the next lane, easing off the highway and onto the exit road.

"It's a surprise, angel," Dean promises with wink and directs him to an empty parking lot bordered by trees. Castiel narrows his eyes and frowns,

"Dean, if you told me to pull over so we could have sex, so help me-"

"Cas! Jesus, get your head outta the gutter, man. I thought we could stop for lunch, I stopped and stocked the cooler while you were filling the tank. Come on, we can have a picnic,"

"Dean-" Cas sighs,

"It'll be romantic, angel, come on!"

"Fine. But only because it's part of the road trip experience."

  
They trek along the well-worn trail until they reach a heap of bricks, aptly labelled 'Paper Mill Ruins'. 

"I can't believe you don't remember," Dean mutters, cracking open two root beers and handing one to Cas. 

"What is there to remember?" 

"This is where we met, you jack ass," Dean snips and he's about about to chew Cas out but the other man breaks out into a grin.

"Oh, I thought you were referring to something else," Cas says as solemnly as he can with his lips stretched into a happy smile. He bumps his shoulder against Dean's playfully and picks a pickle off the other man's paper plate.

"Idiot,"

They eat in relative silence, observing the waterfall and laughing when a squirrel falls out of a tree into the little creek. The food is mostly gone within an hour or so and the brush around them is quiet, save for a few cicadas buzzing happily in the sun. 

"Where do you want to go next? We've been stopping in all these smaller towns, I think we should go somewhere big,"

"Miami?" Cas wrinkles his nose.

"I don't want anything to happen to the car,"

"Okay what about New York? It's kinda cliche..."

"No! That sounds great. We can rent a hotel room and go shopping - we can be tourists this time instead of terrorists," 

"You ass, we weren't terrorists!"

"No just robbers, murderers-"

"Alright, alright, you smart ass," he grins and kisses Castiel sweetly. 

"I have to ask you something,"

"I'm not gonna suck you off in the wilderness, Dean,"

"No! That's not... It's serious," 

"Okay... Is everything okay?" 

"Yes, just... okay," Dean smiles and kisses him again then rifles around in his back pocket. 

"Dean?"

"Christ, you're beautiful, Cas." He adjusts himself so he's on one knee - the left one - and opens the velveteen box that he'd pulled from his back pocket. "Uh, will you marry me?"

"Oh, Dean..." he glances up at him, blue eyes watery. "Yes, yes, I'll marry you,"

"Really?" Castiel nods and sobs as Dean slips the simple silver band onto Cas's finger.

"You assbutt! You're making me cry," they kiss, once, twice and a third time. 

"Do you know what this means?"

"We're getting married?"

"Well yeah, but now the news broadcast lady's gonna say: 'authorities have identified the suspects as gang leader Dean Winchester, younger brother Sam Winchester and husband, Castiel Winchester,"

"You idiot, I love you."

**Author's Note:**

> Every single one shot (2/2) I've ever written ends in a stupid marriage proposal JFC.


End file.
